


Shadow

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, M/M, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-09
Updated: 2007-04-09
Packaged: 2018-09-30 23:30:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10175054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: It was always at night. In private, with noone but our shadows to see. It was only ever then that your hands turned gentle. It was only where no one could see us that you would whisper into my ear





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own it, no profit being made and no infringements intended.

Many thanks to Chelle for the beta, any remaning mistakes are my own.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Shadow_

It was always at night. In private, with no-one but our shadows to see. It was only ever then that your hands turned gentle. It was only where no one could see us that you would whisper into my ear. Only between us would I ever hear a soft and soothing tone of voice that was directed at me. Your face would break from its mask and I would see all the emotions displayed on your features, from lust to love; pleasure to passion. It was the only time you would say it.

_But always in the dark_

In the beginning I’d enjoyed it, even got off on it. The thrill of being caught making my heart beat all the more faster. All the fleeting caress’, the brushes of our shoulders and hands, even the physical fights we managed to into thrilled me, because then I was touching you and able to feel you against me, and everyone watched and they would never know that I would have to hide my arousal afterwards. They would never know that as soon as I could, I would furiously stuff my hand down my trousers and wrap my hand around my cock, and that each time I did it I would fantasize that it was your hand, your mouth. Those times I would come so hard that my vision would blank as I came down from my high. But I understood why, and a part of me wanted to keep us hidden forever, while another part demanded that I scream it from the rooftops. But I followed you and coveted you while I had you, treasured you like a jewel in the Nile. But you had never wanted to step out of the trap we had laid for ourselves.

_You wanted the dark_

It always simmered inside of me, bubbled and rose up, only to be pushed down, it burned and hurt even more. Hurt every time I saw others touching you, standing next to you where I should have been. And you would give a smile – even one of those small tight ones that didn’t quite reach the eyes – but one none-the-less, while all we could do was sneer and publicly ridicule one another. And it would cut all that much deeper, and soon I knew there’d be a time where there would be nothing between myself and the others, and then they would see just how deeply I felt for you. That you were mine.

_And not only in the shadows_

I remember the first time we made love. Remember it like it was yesterday. I remember the relief that stole over me when I discovered you had somehow managed to leave the forbidden forest, then the panic when it emerged that you had yet to come back to the castle. I remember staring out of the north tower watching the grounds for you, for your shadows. And eventually I retired, and hoped that you would be in the great hall in the morning, not allowing the thought to enter my mind that you wouldn’t be.

_Would we be hidden_

You came to me and stood in the doorway, light spilling in and casting shadows around you. You were pale and bruised. There was a tremble to your frame that you couldn’t quite hide. You never spoke, but simply held me and let me hold you in turn. And then you kissed me. And it was like there was only us in the world. You stole my breath away and I felt my nerves turn to fire in the wake of your touches. I melted against you as you undressed me, touched my bare skin and made my knees tremble with the simple act of looking at me in those moments. I knew you could see my scars but you simply traced each one with a delicate hand and trailed kisses along the length of each and every one. And then we lay on the bed, your hands always – never leaving – me, as if to assure yourself I was real and with you. And just when I thought I could take no more, you brought me to new heights, and when you finally made love to me, everything and yet nothing made sense. All that mattered to me was that you were inside me, and I never wanted you to leave. I wanted that feeling to stay with me. I wanted to keep hold of you. Rapture and utopia.

_You were my paradise_

It was only as dawn came, when I woke up alone, the sheets still warm and your scent still lingering to find a white Cupidone upon the pillow and a folded piece of parchment under it. As dawn broached the night sky, as I read your words and felt the pain behind your words – of his passing – that I knew those touches were to reassure yourself. But that you had come to me and not them, that even though they got to covet you openly, it was me that held the most important part of you in my hand. And I knew that although you hadn’t spoken it, you had still told me.

_And I had hope then_

In the days that followed, there was an air around you that left no one untouched. There was a distant look in your eyes, yet they sparked with an inner fierceness that not even I would hope to tame. Even after the summer respite, I could see you had distanced yourself, and not just from me. It gave me a small amount of satisfaction to see your two shadows out in the cold as much as I was. Your nightly stays became more frequent, and as you lay beside me, lashes against too pale a face, wild hair made more so by our activities, I watched you. It wasn’t a sudden realisation that hit me in that moment. It was more a matter of accepting that you had a part of me that I had willingly given you. There was no demand that you have it, you hadn’t even asked for it and probably didn’t know you had it. But you did, and still do.

_That love did exist_

The following few years could never be a blur. Each and every challenge more difficult that the last, each leaving their own mark on me, on you – on us. The expectations from my father and your visions that had you almost tearing at your own skin were only the beginning. Your constant presence in my thoughts only steeled my resolve to seek out my own Godfather, despite fears of where his true loyalties were. But somehow, by some Miracle of Merlin, we both survived. Survived, but not without a stain on our souls.

_And forever not a dream_

I stood to the side and watched as you drifted, seeking for something you couldn’t find. I knew I had to let you do it, had to let you try to fill the void. But it hurt me as well each and every time your efforts proved futile. And so I waited, hoping that time would be enough. But it never seemed to be, you rapidly moved from one extreme to the other. In both your emotions as well as seeking, filling the void became foremost in your mind and concern washed over you like water of a duck’s back. And we began to drift from one another.

_It was not meant to be_

I crossed the road from hope and let myself continue to love a stranger. There was no rhyme or reason to us anymore, but we had made our bed, and now we would have to lie in it. And now I sit in my office with your file open on my desk on the eve of our anniversary – the day we walked away from each other – the last that I ever saw you, and I tell myself it was for the best. But best for whom, I’ve yet to see. I finger the finger I’ve always carried. The very one I bought, spur of the moment, and had silently promised that I would give you should we still be together one year after the war.

_It slipped from my fingertips_

We had lasted six years longer and I never gave you the promise. Maybe if I had I wouldn’t be standing here by your grave for the first time, three years after you were laid to rest here, reminiscing and contemplating what if’s. As dawn greets the waning moon, I leave the ring on your headstone, and I see that it’s a simple white one. There is no lengthy inscription or special mention of who you were, nothing of what you had done, or sacrificed. Nothing that marks you as anything other that Just Harry. I place a kiss to the stone and send a silent goodbye to you and leave. A fleeting feeling of eyes – emerald, always emerald, – piercing my back, and when I turn to look, the feeling floats away like a shadow flees the light.

_To remain hidden from sight_

_~*~_

A year later, as dawn broke over the sky, white clouds parting ways and a light breeze rustling the leaves along the ground, footsteps filled the air and stopped by a single patch of grass. The large oak tree to the left caused the sun’s rays to splinter through the branches. Acorns littered the ground. A pale hand reached out to the headstone, picked up the single white Cupidone and ran a finger over the soft petals. An even softer smile graced his face, grey eyes closing as a memory of another time with the same flower washed over him. The breeze picked up, blowing his coat out round him, blond hair dancing and the wind a soft caress against his cheek.

_Out of the light_

Just as suddenly as it had begun, it faded. Placing a kiss on the headstone, a hand ghosting over the top of the stone, he turned and slowly walked away, the flower still held loosely between fingertips. Green eyes watched the retreating figure from the shadows, and as the sun rose higher, the birds sang out once more, warmth spreading through the ground. And in the blink of an eye, the shadows and the green eyes were gone.

_And into the dark_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_A/N: The Cupidone is symbolic of a tender declaration of love one can make to another. Here, I thought it would be nice to have a single flower instead of a bunch, as one of something can say so much more than many. The white symbolises the purity and innocence of the sentiment being given as well as eternity and spirituality. Not necessarily representative of the person giving it._


End file.
